Everybody raise your guns,. Sirens scream of bombing runs. Supercavitation.. Everybody feel the wrath,. You've been standing on the path. Of war and destruction..
Sacred life, forever a mystery to me.. Sins and lies, put them to rest or shoot me.. Do I dare believe I could be the one carrying the gun,. And fight the afflictions of this world..
I am here. You are here too my dear. We're drowning in the sun. We're so near. We're getting closer and. We're sweat tears blood and come. . We are now.
After I had killed my wife. And by the jury been acquitted. I resolved to change my life. And try to lead a life less wicked. I roamed around from town to town.
I saw you yesterday. I couldn't let you be. I had to sift through broken glass. To find out if you missed me. But all I found was a slow fade. And a gift-wrapped box of band aids.
Well you can dance on tv with your diamonds on. Sing in tune for a world that is going for a song. Get the steps all right but the words go wrong. . And you can wake up in the morning with sweaty hands.
I wish I could go back in time. Tell you it has turned out fine. Like it has, like it has, like it has. . I sit here singing in the sun. Words not meant for anyone.
Dear mum, every thing's gone wrong. And I wish, I'd listened to what you said. Times you sat down on my bed. And told me 'bout my life. . Dear mum, I've been out of touch.
Well, were sluts, you and me. Succumb to pleasure easily. Despite our last sincere intent. We rise at two and go out unkempt. . Retire at six for a little more.
Rise up from your deep sleep, baby. Wake up from your slumber. Ive got your anesthetic ready. I have got your number. . Ill do everything to help you.
Shake that fat in every direction. Move your smile across the floor. Tip your hat, the night is perfection. It's a funky music number. Who could ask for more?.
They say that the dead live forever. And round here well they probably do. If you stand by the gates outside graceland. You can watch all the dead coming through.
Some things look hard. And then they're not. Like getting on a tightrope. And falling off. . But there's never been anything. Harder than loving her. She's so demanding, so intense.
Well, the power of the bullet is fascinating. They're polishing the luga facsimiles. The little kids grow up imitating. Cowboys shoot Indians before puberty.
When it's time to pack your bags. When everything appears as the drag that it is. Get down that brown case that your grandma had. Open it up and think of your dad.
He's done it all a million times. The gags, the repartee, the little crimes. Every audience is special and that goes for you. He looks into your eyes again.
Yesterday we were the best of friends. Today we can't get back again. Time has crept in crevices. And patterns down the wall. We could paint over the papered cracks.
Born in Louisiana in a town called Franklin. And she was fully matured by the time she reached the age of 10. Mulatto girl, that's what they called her.
You say there's nothin' wrong. With the lessons that you're learnin'. The school of the streets. You'll kick next year. Skateboardin' Hollywood and Vine.
I can't reach behind your eyes. You always look away. You hide behind your alibis. And change your mind. From day to day. . If there's something I can do.